Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic, nor Hogwarts (well, who in my mind is a character). JK Rowling does. She and Warner brothers and whoever else has any rights to Harry Potter books. This is not intended for profit, only for fun, and I in no way claim to be talented.
Character Pairings: Severus Snape/Nymphadora Tonks
Warnings: Mild use of language, adult situations, possible slight ooc (though I try desperately to avoid that)
This contains no overly complex plot, and is written mainly to make people smile while hopefully avoiding being overly cheesy although I do NOT mind cheesy, so...yeah
A/N: I grew fascinated with (after reading several that made me shudder) the idea of if a Snape-Tonks romance could be pulled off even halfway believably, without going horribly ooc on the characters or making it gag-a-maggot sweet. I do not know for sure if everything is going to work out in the end, it may not do so. Keeps it interesting for me. If you spot any errors in any of the chapters, please leave them in a review so I can correct them (thanks to my beta for suggesting this--revised note May 9,2004)
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"So...what kind of potion?" she asked awkwardly, as they stood alone in the living room area of number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"The different kind," he answered silkily, and smirked.
"Why's it different?" she tried again, mentally doing all she could to keep a hold on the temper he sparked off in her so easily.
"Because its unusual." Condescending amusement filled his black eyes as he crossed his arms lazily.
That look set her off and she mimicked his pose, and said bitingly: "You can just bloody well kiss my ar-!"
"Ah-ah. Language, Nymphadora."
"Go lick Potter's boots, Sevvie," she answered back, saccharine sweet, and leaned against the wall as she waited for his retort. It was pretty much the ultimate insult to him; and she knew it.
He clenched his fists where she couldn't see, and the amusement left his face. "Do not even begin to think that you could presume to tell me wh-"
"Ooo wordy. Has ickle Sevvie been reading his wittle dictionary?" the purple-haired Metamorphmagus mocked, and pretended to shiver in her shoes when Snape took a step towards her, trying one of his well-used intimidation tactics.
"Do NOT call me that," the greasy-haired Potions Master bit out.
She smirked. "What? The big bully can dish it out, but he can't take it?" came her smooth retort.
"I am not a Potter."
Tonks brought a hand up to her heart, and pretended to be amazed. "After all this time, you FINALLY decide to come clean?" A fake sniff. "I'm so prouuud!" she wailed, and wrapped her arms around him, pretending to blow her nose on his robes.
He went rigid.
She stepped back, snickering.
"You, Nymphadora, are nothing to but a little, impertinent, immature whelp!"
Tonks rolled her eyes. "Yeah, says the one who's calling someone else names."
"Grow up."
"I will if you will."
"I am grown up."
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," she quoted, and then her eyes widened as she slapped a hand to her mouth.
Giggles erupted from her. "Did I say THAT?"
"Nymphadora!" he growled.
"Sevvie-poo!" she said his name practically oozing sweetness. She was determined not to lose this one.
"NYMPHADORA!" he yelled.
"MY ICKLE SEVVIE-WEVVY!" she yelled right back, and he froze, staring at her with a stony expression his face. Unbeknownst to the both of them, a crowd had begin to gather in the hallway when Messrs. Gred and Forge Weasley came in for their first Order meeting and heard the two of them going at it. Immediately they'd began silencing anyone who arrived after them and themselves, and beckoned everyone over to where they could hear better as to what was going on. Silenced sniggers erupted from most of the members there, and the rest smiled or smirked at the idea of anyone calling Severus Snape "My ickle Sevvie-Wevvy."
They waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.
"Be glad I try to refrain from cursing those I work with," Snape finally said, an edge to his voice.
Tonks snorted. "I'd like to see you try."
He went so far as to roll his eyes at her, and stated blandly. "All I'd have to do is fire off one spell and sit back and watch as you trip and fall and smash everything in a one kilometre radius trying to respond."
The smiles were wiped from everyone's faces. That was a low blow.
Apparently Tonks thought so, too. Because not even three seconds later, the sharp CRACK! of her hand meeting his cheek echoed through the room.
Then she whispered, her eyes bright with unshed tears: "I don't put you down for all the things you normally get put down for, you greasy-haired, slimy, hook-nosed toe-rag of an overgrown bat!"
Snape stared at her in consternation. It was true. She hadn't once said any of those things, and had instead kept the argument on...almost light? grounds.
He sighed and then did something no one ever thought him capable of, at least not with meaning.
"I apologize for that, Miss Tonks."
She wiped her eyes furiously, and whirled away from him. "Its alright..." she said. "Everyone else makes fun of me, why in the bloody hell should you be any different."
'Merlin, she knows how to lay a guilt-trip,' he thought, and stepped towards her, extending one hand to rest on one of her shoulders, but then paused, and said instead. "I think we should go to the kitchen. The other Order Members should be arriving soon."
Her back went rigid, her shoulders squared, and then she nodded jerkily, and headed towards the kitchen without another word.
Snape followed behind silently.
END PART 1! (betad!)
